Crumbling
by A-BondofFlame-R
Summary: Harry Potter always knew that boy was cold, emotionless. When that image is shattered, what will it take to make a new one? Well...he'll have to embark on a hell of an emotional thrill ride to find out.
1. A Most Unusual Sight

The bathroom on the third floor was the one place he went to when his friends, or Quidditch, or his entire life became too much. It was a sanctuary of sorts, to him at least.

He swung the large wooden door open, prepared to go and sit on one of the porcelain sinks and think. It was, after all, the perfect place to do so. Not many people came up since Moaning Myrtle had invaded this floor's boy's lavatory. In fact, he was the only one he knew who had actually kept using the room like normal, but that was probably because Myrtle usually left him alone if he explained why he wanted to be left. So, he was good and ready to have a long thinking session.

What he wasn't prepared for, however, was to hear another boy in the bathroom. Another boy _crying._ Perplexed and stunned, he willed himself to round the corner so he could get a better view of the boy who was obviously trying to stop his tears. From the back, he could only make out two things, but those details paired with the tone of the sobs gave away the mysterious character, even without him having to speak.

He had a thin, delicate, yet muscular Quidditch build paired with platinum blond hair. It was none other than-

"Potter?!" he stuttered, his voice cracking and alarmed. The boy quickly swept the back of his hand across his tear-stained face, poorly attempting to hide the evidence that he'd cried. It took a mere moment for the boy to bounce back.

"What, you've resorted to following me round now, Potter?" The tone was harsh, like usual, but Harry could still sense the previous anguish and despair the boy expressed. Instead of retaliating, he felt his features melt into a more sympathetic expression.

"Why were you crying?" he murmured softly. As this was not what the other was expecting, he blinked his cold steel eyes before realizing that he was showing an emotion other than superiority.

"Yeah, right Potter," he growled, pushing past the raven haired teen, "Like you would care." And with that the bathroom door swung open, leaving a baffled Harry Potter with even MORE to think about.

…….

"Harry, where've you been?" asked Hermione, looking over the top of her newest text. The Great Hall was filled with the happy buzzing chatter of the students who occupied the long wooden benches. Harry sank onto the seat next to Ron, who sat across from Hermione.

"Actually, 'Mione, I've just seen the most peculiar thing I think I'll ever see in my life," he stated airily, thinking more about the topic. The brunette arched a brow curiously, but after seeing Harry off in dream land she spoke once more.

"Oh? Care to deliberate, Harry?" Snapping out of his concentration, he smiled sheepishly.

"Yeah, Harry, you seem awful put off. What's the matter with you?" questioned Ron, around a mouth full of food.

"Well," Harry took a deep breath here, creating suspense for his companions, "I just witnessed Draco Malfoy, _crying_ in the third floor bathroom. " Time seemed to freeze as Ron and Hermione stared, opened mouthed at their friend.

Suddenly, as if someone had hit the play button on their lives', Ron cackled loudly while Hermione was desperately trying to hide her giggles.

"Oh my GOD, mate! What smoke are you cracking?" The red head was now clutching his stomach while previously orange pumpkin juice poured from his nose. Harry arched an eyebrow, but Hermione responded for him through her giggles.

"M-muggle expression, H-harry," she snorted, "Honestly though, you could have just said you didn't want to talk about it. You didn't have to lie." Her smile was stretched out across her face, cheeks flushed red from her restrained laughter.

"No-but, I- oh, never mind…." Harry stuttered. He knew that neither of them would believe him, so he gave up before he wasted his breath. But he knew, that sometime tonight, the very fact that he'd seen Malfoy show any emotion would keep him up.


	2. Death, Welcome Thee

Just as Harry had thought, the memory of seeing the ice cold Slytherin prince cry haunted him as he lay awake in his bed during the late hours of the night. He stared up at the canopy of his poster bed, twirling the maroon sheets between his fingers. Malfoy hadn't shown up in the Great Hall for dinner later that evening either, but none of his lackeys had seemed to sense anything wrong. That alone was enough to make Harry wonder, even if he hadn't had an encounter with the other boy prior to supper.

Something had to be seriously wrong. Perhaps Malfoy was under the Imperious Curse? Maybe, but he was a Death Eater, so he was generally impervious to one of Voldemort's sidekicks doing him in. Maybe he was suffering from an illness of sorts? Knowing Malfoy, it'd be right up his alley to whine and moan about a simple head cold. But…that would have the Slytherins all over him.

Harry groaned inwardly; he wasn't getting anywhere from his thinking. It was pointless. The late hour and his lack of sleep restricted him from a normal thought process. Sighing in defeat, he pulled himself off the mattress to stand upright on the wooden floor. He searched in the contents of the large trunk next to his bed, attempting to find the one thing he could always rely on. Weaving his fingers around the silky fabric, Harry pulled it out and smiled before throwing it on.

His Invisibility Cloak. It was one of his few belongings he treasured dearly. The cloak allowed him to take his midnight strolls without being reprimanded, and on those walks he usually thought clearly enough to solve his problems. He doubted it would be that way tonight, but nonetheless, the brunette snuck down to the Common Room, where he slipped past the dazed Fat Lady, and into the halls. Harry contemplated returning to the bathroom for a moment or two, but let the idea slip and reasoned to go up to the Astronomy Tower. It was a nice night, after all. Maybe he could actually do his Astronomy assignment, he mused to himself.

As the raven haired boy rounded the corner at the top of the tower, something caught his attention.

It was that noise. Yes, _that _noise. The one that kept playing over and over in his memory, keeping him awake.

He was perched atop the stone ledge of the tower, staring longingly at the ground far, far below. The moonbeams of the night shimmered against his platinum locks, which were strung across his forehead, creating the illusion of a glowing halo. Water reflected on his cheeks, which Harry simply took as tears.

"Malfoy? What are you doing on the ledge?" he whispered, careful to add some hint of concern. The shaking body whirled himself around to face Harry, a sneer now placed on his features.

"As if you would really care, Potter. You want me dead, just like everybody else," he snapped, voice laced with a strangled mix of hurt and anger. The Slytherin laughed at the shocked expression on his rival's face; it was just too perfect.

"Oh, perfect Potter can't hate someone, can he?" the boy snarled, "So sorry, I forgot." The other boy looked down at his feet, his gaze one of surprised shock and hurt. Malfoy looked back toward the horizon, hoping the boy would just leave so he could finally meet the cold ground below.

"Draco," Harry was right in front of him in a flash -Draco didn't see or even hear him walk over, "I have never once in my life wished death upon you. You can't just throw your entire life away, because some people want you to. If you do, then you are nothing more than their servant, and that's not like a Malfoy, now is it?" Harry smiled tentatively at the end, expecting the silvery blond to smirk too.

What he didn't expect, however, was Draco's reaction. As he processed all that Harry had said, all that he had meant, and even took in the fact that _someone_ cared to talk him down off the ledge, Draco staggered back.

He staggered, and fell right off the stone ledge.


	3. Unreal Proposition

The sounds around him were not clear, but rather a mixed jumble of voices and noise. Even though his eyelids were closed, he could feel the bright light trying to penetrate through the delicate skin. He willed his eyes to open, disregarding their weight. A woman was fussing over him, with two men in the background. The scene was a familiar one for the young boy.

"Ah! You're awake! Good, good," the woman chirped in his direction, "It's about time that you woke up." The nurse he recognized as Madame Pomfrey, and if he focused his eyes, the two men in seats were Snape and Dumbledore. The woman continued to babble as she worked to treat him.

"Ah, just be glad you haven't seen the other boy. A poor mess, he was. I wonder what put him in that state." He racked his brains, trying to recall anything the medi-witch was talking about. Before he could remember anything useful, the Headmaster spoke up.

"Now I'm sure that you might not be feeling well, but please tell us why you were carried here with a massive head wound?" At this, the boy blanched. He honestly did NOT want to explain the situation to everyone. As he opened his mouth to stutter a reply, another voice cut in for him.

"I'm sorry Professor, it was my fault. I went up to the tower he was at by coincidence, and he turned around so quickly to snap at me he stumbled and hit his head on the ledge," they boy supplied. The bearded man smiled at the standing boy.

"Yes, that's a very convincing story, Mr. Potter. But I know fairly well that you and Mr. Malfoy talked long before he hit his head, and that Mr. Malfoy was on _top_ of the ledge. I would like to hear _why_ he was there." Draco swallowed harshly. His godfather looked at him from underneath his midnight black hair, waiting for a response. They all watched as his icy blue eyes darted around the room while he reached for an excuse.

"Well, Professor, seeing as I don't have a clue what you're talking about, I must have been sleepwalking," he finally settled on, breaking the heavy silence. Both Dumbledore's and Harry's eyebrows rose, silently questioning his reasoning.

"Oh? And what about your conversation with Mr. Potter?" asked the elder man. Draco thought a moment longer, before replying, somewhat sheepishly, with,

"Sleep talking?" The Headmaster smiled, the tad bit creepy smile, and rose steadily from his chair.

"I see. Perhaps, Severus, you should give the boy a Solid Sleep draft? He appears to need it," his robes billowed out behind him as he made his leave, "Oh, and Harry, please, come with me. I'll see you back to your common room." For a moment, Draco thought he saw the raven haired boy flit a concerned look between him and their Headmaster before he gave the former a tentative smile before turning and leaving the Hospital Wing.

The two occupants of Hogwarts walked slowly and silently for a few moments, but Harry knew that Dumbledore was not just 'seeing him to his common room.' Harry'd been caught a few times out of bed, and Dumbledore trusted him to return to Gryffindor Tower. As it turned out, the younger boy was right in his assumptions.

"Now, Mr. Potter, I do believe _you _know somewhat of what ails Mr. Malfoy, correct?" There was a pause where the Gryffindor nodded. "Yes, I believe if we are to make any assumption, Mr. Malfoy is….ah…what is that Muggle term…oh yes, suicidal. Since he seems to have cut off all contact with his fellow Slytherins, I am bending Hogwarts policy a bit and asking you to watch over him. I am only asking this of you because I trust that you will truly think about your decision, Harry." The Boy Who Lived was simply walking quietly, actually considering taking care of Malfoy. His thoughts were scattered every which way, and the side of him that was logical asked about the said rule bending.

"Before I agree to anything, what would I have to do, Professor?" Smiling, the Headmaster patted his shoulder.

"I knew you'd ask as much. And what a good question, at that. You'd share a room with Mr. Malfoy, and until further notice, any class that you both take will be shared."  
He smiled as he saw Harry's mortified expression on his first statement. "Do not worry; you will not have to share beds. It will be a much bigger room than your dormitories. We would need you to try and coax Mr. Malfoy into confiding in you, or somebody, to try and clear up his suicidal thoughts. Also, make sure there are no more suicide attempts." Again, there was a lag in the conversation as Dumbledore let his students mull over the information. Finally, the teen took a deep breath.

"Alright Professor. But I don't think Malfoy'll be too happy about this."


	4. Settling In

**A/N:** **Thanks for all your support, guys! And to that one random reviewer who I can't for the life of me remember…Yes, I AM aware that Moaning Myrtle haunted the girl's bathroom. I thought I had made it clear enough that she simply switched, since this is AU. Sorry about that! I suppose I'll go back and fix up for the future when I get around to it. :D Anyway, thanks for all the positive feedback! **

"….I understand. Please refrain from informing anyone about this, sir. I assume that you understand why I am asking you of this," he sighed, his tone resigned and defeated. The Headmaster nodded his head to reassure the newly healed boy sitting on the white hospital bed.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, I can see why that would prove difficult if word were to spread. However, I must make sure that you realize that as soon as I see fit, you may return to your normal arrangements. As for now, I will make sure that it is clear to everyone that this new plan is simply 'inter-house relations.' Does that suit you?" After a simple nod of his head, Draco rose in the elegant manner he was taught.

"Of course. It's not too conspicuous, either. May I please go to my rooms, Professor?" With a smile and a gesture that was meant to tell the Slytherin to follow, the Headmaster led them to the new room. As they meandered through the ancient, yet still classy, halls, the elder of the two explained things further.

"Mr. Malfoy, please _do_ try to befriend Mr. Potter. It was clear from the expression he wore when he brought you in that he does not in fact loathe you as much as you think." His tone was what he hoped was an encouraging one. They stopped in front of a lovely oil portrait of Medusa, who asked for the password. Dumbledore gave the entry word to Draco, and after exchanging goodbyes and a wink, he left the blond to explore his new quarters.

Draco stepped through the portrait hole, only to find Harry already perched on one of the beds and scribbling messily on a scrap of parchment. Suddenly, the blond found a lump in his throat. He still didn't know how he was still alive, but he bet all his Galleons that the Gryffindor had a hand in his saving. It really messed up his thought process, to think that his savior sat in front of him.

But before the blond could even cast 'silencio' on himself as to not be noticed by the other occupant, Harry looked up at him. One could visibly see his features relax- the brow no longer furrowed, the delicate mouth no longer was pressed in a thin line, and the dazzling eyes no longer were clouded with worry.

"Malfoy," he breathed, obviously relieved, "I'm glad you're up and about. I'm sorry about this, though." He offered a sheepish smile in the blond's direction, to which Draco had no reaction. He noted that Harry had taken the liberty of transfiguring everything in the room to be a divine sapphire blue, probably on the fact that they wouldn't agree on green or red.

"I like the choice of color. And I get it. If he left me alone, he'd have one pretty dead student on his hands. The dead son of a Death Eater, no less," he drawled, no trace of sarcasm in his tone. Harry looked oddly thoughtful, and perhaps a bit sad, for a moment while Draco took the time to move himself to the other side of the room. As the blond settled himself on the plush bed, Harry started to ask the question that Draco knew was unavoidable.

"Um…it might not be my place…but, er….why were you going to jump, Draco?" His tone was that of a friend, which struck Draco as odd. He didn't have any friends. He debated with himself for a bit, laying back on the bed, on whether to answer the raven haired boy or not. After an awkward pause that Harry figured Draco was using to find the answer, his new roommate finally decided.

"Well, I suppose that since I'll be with you for a while, you ought to know _why_ you're making sure I don't try and off myself again."


	5. Something In Common

**Hey people! *smiles* I'm glad you like my story so far. I personally think it's…lacking something, but I don't know what, so I can't exactly fix it, hehe. You guys think it's great, so that's all that really counts! For me to keep writing it, anyway….er, yeah….ignore this. Keep reading, yeah, that's what you want. Haha….**

Before Draco started his 'woeful tale of epic proportions' as his godfather had put it, he conjured up a mug of hot chocolate. He found that the warm aroma and taste of the chocolate put him at ease in any situation, whether it be studying for N.E.W.T's or preparing for a Death Eater meeting in his home. As the steaming beverage passed his lips, Harry visibly saw a great amount of tension ease itself from his new roommate's body.

"Now, what were we talking about?" he said, cradling the cup between his hands above his lap. Harry smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck, trying to rid himself of the awkwardness of this situation.

"Er, well, you were telling me why you're…uh….set on killing yourself…ehm….," stammered Harry, nervous about Malfoy's reaction. Across the room, he heard the platinum blond tut quietly before leaning his back against the wall. For a brief moment, the question of whether or not a _Malfoy_ should have such posture flickered in his mind, but he brushed it off. This was _Draco_ now, not Malfoy.

"Ah, yes. Hm. Well, as you know, Lucius Malfoy is indeed a Death Eater. I however, am not, and never wish to be. Must I explain the, say _consequences_ of such a conflict?" Draco paused in his dialogue for a response from Harry, who grimaced but shook his head sullenly anyway.

"Good. Well, that constitutes enough right there for me to be plainly upset, I basically have no family unless I become a lowly Death Eater. Voldemort would kill them, you know. Then, there's the fact that my _Veela_ blood is activating, whatever the bloody hell that means. All I know is that I have a 'soul mate' and no matter what, I'm stuck with them. It's just another choice that is made for me, I suppose," he drawled, his tone devoid of all emotion save irritation. Harry pondered on how hard that must be as Draco took another cautious sip of his hot chocolate. As his thoughts roamed, the brunette's mind pondered about getting Hermione to help Draco. She was always going on about 'the beauty and romantic plus of being a Veela.' Perhaps she could shed a little light on his situation.

"Right, moving on," Draco clipped, his tone now harsh and bitter, "Now my father is trying to disown me. I was having a spat with him on this 'Veela' business and how I don't want to be bound to some horrid _girl._ He picked up on my reasoning, and now…well. I'm being disowned. So I'm basically alone Potter, with no family, and friends who are scandalized that I'm refusing the Dark Mark." Draco heaved a sigh so heavy that it was a wonder that the boy was able to even breathe under its weight.

He continued to drink his cocoa while Harry let all this newfound information sink in. He felt bad for Draco, he really did. Harry himself knew a bit of what he was going through, the whole no family bit, but at least he had someone to lean on. It was at that moment that the Boy Who Lived decided that he was no longer staying with Draco under the Headmaster's request, he was going to be there so he could be Draco's someone to lean on.

The silence Harry was using to debate how to tell his friend's about his little choice was broken by a bitter, flat laugh coming from the opposite side of the room.

"Well Potter, I never thought I'd see the day where we'd have something in common. We both have no parents, eh?" quipped Draco, a thoughtful expression adorning his features. On his other side, Harry was tapped his chin for a moment, contemplating. Then he broke out into a broad grin. He could finally prove the oh-so-intelligent Draco Malfoy wrong.

"That, and I'm gay too," he supplied, a hint of smugness in his tone. The blond, who was at that moment drinking in his cocoa, spit it out with some sort of grace that Harry supposed was taught to upper class people. He certainly hadn't known that spitting with elegance was even possible. Draco looked at him from across the room with awe, his eyes narrowed.

"_Excuse_ me?" he shot at the brunette, who winced back in response. Maybe Harry read him wrong. Ooh, that was bad… Nonetheless, the boy whipped his hands up in defense, trying not to offend his roommate any further.

"I-I'm sorry, I just….you know, thought since you were putting emphasis on, well, not wanting to be with a-a girl, I er, sorry-" A blush was rapidly painting his face as he tried to explain, but Draco saved him from further humiliating himself by waving his hands in slashing motions to cut him off.

"No, no, you had that right, but _you?_ You, the Gryffindor Golden Boy, Boy Who Lived, the leader of the Golden Trio….you fancy boys?" demanded Draco. Harry buried his face in his hands and muttered a muffled 'yes.' Across the room, the platinum blond let everything fall into place. It made sense, if one thought about it. He never really seemed happy with that Ravenclaw girl or the youngest Weasley, but now it made complete sense, so much that it made Draco feel like an idiot for being so blind.

"Just…just don't tell anyone, okay?" murmured Harry. Then, Malfoy's old traits kicked in, along with his patented sneer.

"Oh, no, we wouldn't want that now would we? The savior of our wizarding world, gay! Everyone shunning you and calling you a freak! Just more attention that you-" Harry had snapped his head up and within the time frame of two seconds, bounded across the room to look Malfoy in the eyes.

"Don't you dare, _Malfoy! _And stop acting like you know me and what I want," he growled, his eyes ablaze with fury. Draco blinked, now fully aware of what he'd done. Harry whipped around to return to his own bed and sulk, but the Slytherin tugged on his sleeve, resulting with the Gryffindor sitting next to the object of his anger.

"Look, I...I'm sorry," he whispered, sincerity in every word. Harry gasped quietly at the apology before Draco continued his remorseful speech.

"It's just that…old habits die hard, you know? Antagonizing and critical ways have been drilled into my mind since I was able to talk. I didn't mean that. I mean….look what happened to me. I wouldn't tell anybody, even though we're still enemies. It's the least I owe you for saving my life," he mumbled, a very cute blush creeping up on his face. Harry noted every word, every emotion in his eye. Then something clicked, and Harry chewed on his fingernail nervously, pondering on how he would word his offer.

"It's…okay, I suppose. I get it. But, erm, could we….change the enemies fact? I mean, we _are_ going to be together for a while, and I'd really not be at each other's throats all day, or getting hexed off my arse-" he babbled anxiously, before cutting himself off in surprise at Draco's laugh. A _real_ laugh. No bitterness, no harsh undertone. Harry looked up curiously, only to find himself captivated. A laughing Draco was a very pretty Draco, he mused. The blond finally caught his breath, though his voice was shaky with giggles.

"My, I believe I've found your nervous habit, Harry. Babbling. It could be much, much worse. At least babbling is cute," he drawled teasingly. For once, though, the brunette noticed that there was no menace in the teasing, it was more of friendly banter. The thought made him smile shyly; Draco was poking fun at him for being 'cute.'

"But, I do believe that you're right. We're going to have to interact at some point, why not make it enjoyable? Truce?" He stuck out his thin, dainty hand in a peace offering. Smiling, Harry took it, wishing now that he had done so back in first year. He was lost in his thoughts of what could have been for a good while before Draco leaned back again and looked his way.

"So, you saved my life. Care to tell the tale?"


	6. Meet the Draco

**A/N: Aw, man, I'm getting such positive feedback that I'm scared I'm gonna screw things up….eheh…*sweat drops* Well anyway, thanks for it! It makes my day. Really, you have no idea how boring it is here. :]**

Harry coughed softly next to Draco on the bed, trying to find a way to explain to his roommate how he saved his life without making him feel embarrassed. However, the brunette could feel Draco starting to become impatient with him as he fidgeted around, trying to control his anxiety.

"W-well….uh…well, how much do you remember?" He questioned, still pondering on how he should start. A pair of thin, well kept eyebrows furrowed upwards in thought before Draco answered his question.

"I remember we were arguing –well, I was insulting you- and then you came up and tried to convince me not to jump. Then I fell back, and woke up in the Hospital Wing. So fill the blanks in for me." Harry wriggled nervously on the cerulean bed spread, wringing his hands together as Draco stared. A thick expectant air hung heavily on the pair as the raven haired youth continued to remain silent.

Harry cleared his throat, coughing, and then finally broke the silence.

"Well, you fell…." Draco snapped his head toward Harry, a brow raised.

"No, really? I thought I levitated," he sniggered, resulting in a harsh blush from Harry.

"Shut up Malfoy, or I won't tell you the story!" Draco resumed a perfect pose, his elegantly sculpted face blank. Harry sank back onto the wall, ready to tell his short tale.

"So, you fell. And then, well, I grabbed your hand and pulled you back up, but your head still hit the edge of the tower. Then I levitated you to the Hospital Wing," he stumbled. His voice was very shaky, and Draco must have noticed far more than he thought. The blond made a slow turn of his head, again raising his eyebrows.

"I have a feeling you aren't telling me the whole story," Draco deadpanned. Nervously, Harry tried to laugh as a feeble attempt to deter Draco's suspicions. He rose from the bed, walking over to his own bed while stretching his arms behind his head.

"Heh, don't be so absurd Draco. It's not that much of a story anyway," he lied. His tanned shaking hands started weaving themselves in and out of the silky blanket atop the bed as a distraction. Somewhere behind him, he heard a low, throaty chuckle escape Draco's mouth. The sound made him gulp in fear. That was the type of laugh Draco reserved for times when he knew that someone had lied to him.

"Is that so? I seem to recall Madame Pomfrey accounting for a very distressed looking teenager _carrying me_ to the Hospital Wing," prodded Draco. When he saw the back side of Harry freeze, he knew he'd hit a mark. Rising gracefully, Draco glided toward the side of the room his companion resided in. His features morphed into an amused smirk as he spoke more.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think-"he purred, though interrupted halfway by a loud pounding on the door.

"HARRY, MATE! ARE YOU ALIVE IN THERE?" shouted a deep, male voice. Harry and Draco slowly turned toward the large wooden door, shocked into stillness as another voice piped up.

"Oh, really Ronald, will you hush? I'm sure there's a logical explanation for all of this…." A higher pitched, female tone reasoned. Inside, Harry blushed and thanked Merlin for Ron's tendency to overreact and leapt toward the door. As fast as he could work his shaking fingers, the boy pulled the wooden latch from the barricade to reveal a tall red head and a short, brunette girl.

"Harry! We were worried about you, mate!" shouted Ron. Hermione swatted him lightly on the arm, trying to remind him that yelling is rude. She then turned to Harry, speaking softly.

"Yes Harry, Dumbledore came into the common room to tell us not to worry about you and that you wouldn't be returning tonight or possibly for a while. Then rumors flew…" her voice lowered into a faded whisper as she bit on an uneven nail. Next to her, Ron fumed.

"Yeah, Harry!" he exclaimed, waving his clenched fist, "They were saying that you're sharing a room with someone! And that it's Malfoy, of all people! As if you would actually agree to such a thing, I swear, our whole House has gone bonkers…" he raged on, raving about Malfoy's bad nature and such.

Meanwhile, Draco was staring out the door toward Harry's friends, amused that neither noticed his presence, and also that his roommate was silent. The duo was too busy arguing about Harry and his sanity, and him and his incessant snippy attitude to even notice the boy's lack of response.

"Ron, really," Hermione sighed, exasperated, "I'm extremely sure that Malfoy wouldn't go that far, and I doubt that Harry would even _let_ things get so out of hand-"she was interrupted yet again by the red head.

"Hermione, you don't know how evil that git is! He'd rape Harry just to say he could!" The silver blond's eyebrows shot straight past his short fringe; they thought he was so bad as to have sex with an unwilling victim? That piqued his curiosity. Just how bad did people think he was? Was it just the Golden Trio that thought things like that?

But at the moment, he had a certain Weasel to deal with. Snickering slightly, Draco forced his way past a still frozen Harry, sauntering into the scene. His newfound arrival shocked them all.

"Weasley, surely you don't think I'd rape such an unworthy victim. And after all, what is rape without some sort of resistance?" Draco smirked at the shock and anger that painted itself on the other boy's face. By now, Ron's hands were balled into fists of white hot fury as he shot back a response.

"You slimy ferret face! You have no right to be here, and for all I know, you probably are molesting my best mate! What the bloody hell right do you have to call Harry unworthy! If anyone in the entire magical community is unworthy of anything, its you!" Then, the angered expression on the speckled face faded, now replaced with one of pure vengeance.

"And do you know where the unworthy go, Malfoy?" he drawled, leaning closer to the still unfazed blond. As he spoke, he poked Malfoy's firm chest for emphasis on his words.

"You ought to know. People like you go to Azkaban, where you and your no good excuse for a father belong together!" At the last syllable, the fury returned full force as Ron suddenly swung his fist, making contact with the high bones of Draco's cheek and successfully knocking him onto the ground. Bracing his weight on one arm, Draco gingerly cradled his wounded cheek as he glared daggers up at the youngest Weasley boy.

"How dare you, you ignorant filth! If you had any sense at all, you would see that I am NOT my father, nor is that man my father any longer! I'm going to hex you into a straight coma, one that-" he spat, enraged by the mention of the monster Lucius Malfoy, but Harry finally found his voice.

"Ron, stop it! Draco's not done anything wrong, so just-" and following his new habit, Ron cut him short with a shrill yell.

"Wait, since when is this bugger _Draco_ to you, and when has he _not_ done anything wrong?" The red head's upper lip was curled into a snarl, surprising all three occupants of the room.

"Ron! Stop being such an insufferable prat!" snapped Hermione, fed up with his bad attitude, "Maybe Harry looked past the fact that he's –well, was, I suppose,- a Malfoy and tried to get along with him! Doing that tends to have good effects, not like you would know!" Now Ron turned on the brunette girl, astounded by everyone defending Draco.

"You're on his side too? Fine then, don't listen to me! But when something bad happens to Harry, don't say I didn't warn you!" With one last cutting glare at Draco, Ron stormed off back in the direction of the Gryffindor common room.

The remaining three were left silent for a while, shocked by the events that had occurred within the last five minutes. When Harry finally remembered Draco had been hit, he sank to his knees to examine the boy. Harry started to ease the blond's hand away from the swelling flesh as Hermione bent down to assess the damage.

"Are you okay? Ron's not got much for brains, but he's sure got brute strength…," mumbled the raven haired boy. After a hummed response, Hermione waved her wand to summon a tiny cloth sack of ice. Reaching out tentatively, she handed the makeshift ice pack to Draco, instructing him carefully.

"Just put it on your cheek. It'll be a little cold at first, but it'll make the swelling go down and ease the pain." Draco nodded his thanks, yet again surprising Hermione.

Harry turned his gaze away from the other boy to face the brunette once he was sure Draco was okay. He cleared his throat and gestured between Draco and her.

"Well, Hermione, meet my new roommate, Draco. Draco, meet my friend, Hermione Granger."


End file.
